


What Would've Been a Nice Night Out

by ASimpleArchivist



Series: The Many, Varying Experiences of Don G and His Human [2]
Category: Mafiatale - Fandom, Mobtale, The Kitten and the Don AU, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Also G is very OOC here, Alternate Universe - Mobtale, Alternate Universe - mafiatale, Angst, Asgore's the big bad monster mob boss in Ebott City, Attempted Murder, Attempted assassination, Bad Puns, Blood and Violence, Despite how much he annoys the shit out of Grillby, F/M, Fire-Related Jokes, G being one of those few, G gets thrown onto an emotional rollercoaster, Gaster!Sans - Freeform, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Grillby talks in this one, Grillby's had enough of your shit G, Gun Violence, He's also one of G's closest (and only) friends, He's sort of Selectively Mute and only talks around those he's close to, Healer Grillby, I might add more tags later, I...can't decide if I like the ending or not, In all sorts of ways, Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader is probably too sassy for her own good, Reader-Insert, Richard Laughlan is an ass, Undyne's here to kick ass and can't, Why did I create him?, and he's probably not going to recover from it for a while, angst angst angst, as much violence as you can imagine for this AU, as per usual, hurt/comfort?, minor profanity, umm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 11:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7842706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASimpleArchivist/pseuds/ASimpleArchivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Word of Asgore making the decision to expand his territory had traveled quickly among the many mob clans in Ebott City, despite his assurances of it being “completely diplomatic” and “entirely consensual between bosses” with “appropriate compensation.” G had been skeptical of the goat monster’s decision, but when Asgore had approached him about providing a watchful eye over him on the upcoming inaugural ball, he hadn’t hesitated in accepting the job. Asgore was an old friend, after all, and who was G to refuse him?<br/>So G had ordered several of his most trusted executives to attend the gala as “volunteered security”, along with several of Asgore’s own soldiers. G himself had known he would to attend, but…he hadn’t expected that his human would’ve wanted to tag along.</p><p>Alternate summary: There's been a death threat and G makes sure that no one gets hurt. Well, no one too terribly important...</p><p>(Based off of the "Kitten and the Don" AU from tumblr, created by junkpilestuff and nyublackneko.<br/>Gaster!Sans belongs to borurou, Mafiatale to nyublackneko [I think].)</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Would've Been a Nice Night Out

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the second installation of Don G and his human's misfit adventures! I'm actually surprised at how many hits (not to mention Kudos - thank you all so much!) that the first one-shot got, so I just had to upload the second one. This one is not as good, I'll admit, but it's far longer and it's sort of more solid plot-wise? It's heavily inspired by TheOvidians' "Consigliere" (and all of their "Kitten and the Don" works, for that matter) which I highly suggest you check out! Their writing is excellent and flows very well and I always have an amazing time reading their works.  
> Anywho, this one-shot takes place about a week or two after the first, and since G's mafia family is based in espionage and skulking around, Asgore asks him for help. I'm sorry if G is too out of character here, but I guess it's justified by what happens here.  
> There's also a third in the works, as well, but it'll probably be a while until it's finished.  
> As usual, please comment if you happen to see any grammatical mistakes, and I'll do my best to correct them as soon as possible. Also, if you guys have any suggestions, feel free to comment! I'm always open to new ideas!  
> Happy reading!

“Ah, Don G - it’s a pleasure to have you this evening. I take it that this is your consigliere?”

The thick paper of the once wax-sealed invitation crinkled as the don tucked it back into his inner suit pocket, eyeing the security guard with a neutrally amicable expression. “Yes. Do give my regards and gratitude to your employer for hosting such a…magnificent event.”

The guard smiled, eyes traveling over to the human on G’s arm. “Might I ask for your name, Madame? I never expected a woman to become the renowned Don G’s consigliere. Quite a…intriguing turn of events, if you ask me.”

“My name isn’t important.” Her smile was neither dismissive nor inviting, but G recognized the thinly-veiled patience in her eyes. The not-so-subtle misogyny in the guard’s remarks hadn’t been lost on either of them.

“It would do you well to learn a bit more etiquette,” she continued, tilting her head slightly and giving him a dangerous smile. “There are many in disguise that would not appreciate such remarks.”

The guard’s cordial disposition receded a little and he gained the faintest scowl. “Do enjoy your evening,” he directed towards G, not losing his stare with her, their unspoken battle of wills breaking as G guided her through the massive stone archway into the foyer.

“You need to be careful,” he murmured into her ear, as they skirted the edge of the room and avoiding the crowd of humans and monsters mingling amongst each other. There were at least two to three hundred people gathered in the grand hall. She recognized many from the other monster clans - far less from the human clans, however. “You can’t pick a fight with the other families unless absolutely necessary.”

“I thought that that was the reason we’re here to begin with,” she whispered back, eyes scanning the room. They began to ascend to the stairwell to the second level, the rich, red carpet cushioning their feet.

“We’re here to make sure no one targets Asgore,” he reminded her, nodding with a thin smile as a human passed them with a wave. “Given he’s just made that big political move, there’s no doubt that there’s going to be a few who…disagree.”

Word of Asgore making the decision to expand his territory had traveled quickly among the many mob clans in Ebott City, despite his assurances of it being “completely diplomatic” and “entirely consensual between bosses” with “appropriate compensation.” G had been skeptical of the goat monster’s decision - he already had a considerable amount of the city, and was one of the highest heads among the clans - but when Asgore had approached him about providing a watchful eye over him on the upcoming inaugural ball, he hadn’t hesitated in accepting the job. Asgore was an old friend, after all, and who was G to refuse him?

So G had ordered several of his most trusted executives to attend the gala as “volunteered security”, along with several of Asgore’s own soldiers. G himself had known he would to attend, but…

“What’ll it be, sir?”

“Scotch on rocks. She’ll take water.”

…he hadn’t expected that his human would’ve wanted to tag along.

He looked down at her inquisitively raised brow and guided her to the corner of the bar. “It’s easier to tell if someone has drugged your drink if it’s water,” he explained quietly. “I don’t fancy the idea of you becoming an easy target tonight.”

“Have I ever been an easy target?” she asked wryly, sitting primly on the scarlet velour barstool and facing him. He took a moment to appreciate how the light from the crystalline chandeliers above their heads made her hair glisten a soft golden.

He sighed softly and leaned against the granite-topped bar. “There have been occasions where I’ve almost los…had to intervene.” He smiled wearily. “You seem to attract all kinds of attention.”

“That’s my talent.” She winked just as the bartender set their glasses down beside them.

“Here you are, sir,” he said, bowing slightly.

“Thank you.” G handed the young man a weight leather pouch with a small smile. “You never served us.”

The young human eyed him a moment, then peeked inside the pouch. His eyebrows rose immediately, eyes widened and he looked back up to G and bobbing his head sharply before hurrying to accommodate another monster at the other end of the bar.

“I thought bribing wasn’t your style,” she commented.

G shrugged and sipped his drink. “It’s useful when it’s necessary.”

“I thought we were guests,” she continued, adjusting the strap of her dress. “Why are you hiding the fact we’re having drinks?”

He swirled the stout glass slowly, the ice clinking against the inside as he glanced around the floor below out of the corner of his good eye. “Fewer connections, less chances of being pinned down,” he explained. “We’re really not supposed to be here, as you are well aware. Asgore just got us a word in so we wouldn’t be soliciting.”

“Smart,” she observed lightly, tracing the rim of her glass. He noticed her anxious glances around the room.

He reached over and grasped her arm gently. “Relax,” he murmured, rubbing her soft skin with his thumb. “We’re hoping that increased security with discourage the attackers. Let’s try to have a good time, all right?”

She bit her lip for a moment, then tried to smile. “I…I’ll try. I’m still just…” Letting out a soft sigh, she shook her head. “I guess I’m still a bit unnerved from, uh...” She looked away, her shoulders rolling inward in discomfort. “…from the restaurant incident.”

Shit. How could he have forgotten about that?

“Are you all right?” he asked, clasping her free hand in his. “I can take you home, if you need me to.”

“No, no - I’m fine,” she assured him, patting his breast pocket with a grin. “Really! It’s nice to get to dress up like this, even if it’s to stop a potential assassination.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m…I’m glad you’re here. With me.”

She smiled, eyes lighting up with warmth. He could never, ever get enough of that smile.

“But,” he warned, concern flashing briefly over his carefully neutral visage, “if shots do start to get fired, don’t try to pull any heroics. I don’t care if you think you can get away unscathed. Just…at least find some cover. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

She gave him a tender look. “Don’t worry about me, G. Protecting Asgore is first priority.”

He wanted to contradict her, but…she was right.

“Besides,” she continued, smirking and nudging him with her elbow. “I’m perfectly good at ducking and running.”

He sighed and let out a weary chuckle. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he said, swallowing a good fourth of his drink before setting it down gently.

“If it’s anything close to what you do to me,” she murmured, squeezing his hand and smiling softly, “I’d say I know pretty well.”

G felt something knot up in his throat and all he could do was gaze at her with a warm feeling worming through his ribcage.

“Ahh, Don G. Fancy seeing you here.”

G stiffened immediately, the moment dissipating. He felt irritation begin to set in. He gave a cool smile and turned, dipping his head at the human boss standing there.

Wonderful. It was Laughlan.

“Mister Laughlan,” G greeted neutrally. “A pleasure to see you on such a fine night as this.”

As a monster, G generally was not very fond of humans. There were a few exceptions, of course - his human being one of them - but Richard Laughlan was the worst human G had ever had the misfortune to meet. The man was nothing but a rat - he took what he wanted regardless of whether it was his or someone else’s, adopting the worst jobs to get the most money, not caring about consequences for his actions. He gave the lighter side of the mafia a very bad name.

And G most certainly did not like the way the human man’s eyes were travelling over his human.

“And who might this lovely lady be?” Laughlan inquired. G gritted his teeth at his tone.

“This,” the skeleton monster said stiffly, “is my consigliere.” The human completely ignored him.

“Do you have a name, Madame?” he asked, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. His lips lingered just a bit too long.

“It’s surely of no importance to you,” she responded, and G recognized the discomfort in her falsified smile. “I am just a humble servant.”

“Oh, but I’m sure you’re much more than that,” the human don purred, his eyes glinting. She pulled her hand away, shifting a little in her seat.

“Was there something you needed?” G asked, resisting the urge to clench his fingers.

“Actually, yes.” Laughlan grasped the skeleton monster’s arm, beginning to guide him away from the bar. G cast a look towards his human and made a few quick gestures. She nodded, her eyes becoming alert and cautious as she grasped her glass and slipped away from the bar towards the lower floor.

“What do you want, Laughlan?” G asked once they were well away from any listening ears, following the grand wooden wall. The man was leading him towards a dimly lit hallway that G knew led to conference rooms of all sorts and sizes for any occasions. 

As they stepped into the hall, Laughlan released his arm and G had to squint a bit in lack of lighting. Laughlan strolled down the corridor, hands in his trouser pockets.

G cast a quick look to the ballroom floor beneath them and fought down his apprehension. He could sneak back now, but it might anger the human don or attract his suspicion. This was one of the oldest tricks in the book - leading your target away from the main event - but he had to figure out if Laughlan had any valuable information.

G followed him.

The human glanced over his shoulder to ensure he was following before responding. “I just wanted to have a friendly chat,” he said cordially. “I have a few questions for you.”

G’s good eye narrowed. “I don’t see why we had to leave the party for that,” G said, noticing the hall broke off into two. Laughlan took the right. If G’d had a gut, it would’ve been twisting right about then. He did not like this at all.

Laughlan laughed, the sound probably meant to be light-hearted but only coming across as forced. He was definitely hiding something.

“How did you manage to get invited to this party?” the human asked, his eyes glinting in the dim hallway as he looked at G. “You don’t exactly have any ties to politics, do you?”

G smirked, the bone above his eye arching as he drew himself up to his full height. Laughlan was a tall man, but G was taller, and it had a very apparent effect as the human’s pupil’s dilated a little (much to G’s satisfaction). “I have my ways,” G said coolly. “What’s wrong with wanting to enjoy a nice night with my consigliere?”

Laughlan gave an anxious smile, seeming as though he were trying to regain his composure and he squared his shoulders. “She’s not actually your consigliere, is she? She seems far too…delicate, for work like yours.”

G felt his entire body grow cold and rigid. His eye burned ominously white in the shadows on his pale face.

“Please,” he said, his voice chillingly neutral. “Elaborate.”

The skeleton monster didn’t miss the bead of sweat that rolled down from Laughlan’s temple as he shrank a little. “Surely you’re aware that being a consigliere is much too dangerous for a woman to handle. They shouldn’t be in a position any higher than a receptionist or a secretary, if any. There are…better uses for women than making decision for an entire clan or shooting guns.” A certain look in the man’s eyes made G’s magic begin to boil. “And most certainly, they shouldn’t be working for monsters by the likes of you.”

Something inside G snapped.

Laughlan let out a startled cry as his disgustingly purple Soul emerged from his suit and flashed a deep blue. G’s eye flared yellow and the human flew back, colliding with the wall with a satisfying crunch. Cracks appeared in the drywall around the human imbedded a good few inches within it, dust trickling to the carpeted floor.

The human let out a pained groan, his head and limbs dangling limply as he struggled to breath and move. Somewhere in the back of G’s mind, he hoped that he’d broken at least two of the putrid man’s ribs.

But G was startled out of his angered haze when Laughlan began to laugh, the sound almost hysterical.

“It’s too laaate,” he chimed, lifting his head enough to stare at G with an unnerving smile. “It’s going to happen, no matter what you or your pretty pet do.”

G felt his magic turn cold.

“What did you say?” he asked quietly. But he didn’t get the chance for an answer.

The sound of a gun safety being clicked off snapped the silence in the hallway and G reacted immediately, disappearing from thin air.

The six men all turned, alarmed as G appeared behind them and yanked at their Souls, jerking the guns from their grasps and sending them to the ground in a pile of limbs with heavy thumbs and yaps of surprise.

How had they snuck up on him like that? G was a master of stealth - it was his job, for Christ’s sake - and no one outmatched him. Had it been his rage that had deafened him? Had they been hiding in the darkened conference rooms the entire time?

A distant gunshot rang out, piercing his ears.

G disappeared from the hall without a second thought.

 

She’d been fine up until the point that G left. The suspicion and distrust coming off of her monster had almost been palpable - and that, in return, had made her extremely uneasy. As soon as that human don had walked up, cocky swagger and arrogant smirk and all, the natural feminine instinct in her had cried “hell, no”. He was a rat, she could tell - G probably didn’t even need to tell her if the man was a thug or not - she didn’t trust him at all. Just feeling his partially glazed eyes run over her had set off alarms in her head. She’d dealt with men like him before, and not one of those experiences had turned out pleasant.

But she hadn’t expected him to walk off with G - the surprise had made her extremely nervous. At G’s quick signal, she’d gladly picked up her drink to go find one of their colleagues. Being alone in a ballroom full of thugs didn’t really sit well with her. The monsters here were always at least a bit chivalrous - always gave you a fair warning before an attack, if they decided to cross you - but humans were notably less trustworthy.

So as she stepped at the edge of the steps leading to the main floor and gazed out upon the sea of faces of monsters and humans, tension began to coil tightly in her stomach. Shifting slightly and pressing a hand to her thigh, she felt a little relief to feel the halter strap to the knife G had handed her before they’d left for the gala. It offered some security, should she need to defend herself (of which she was certainly most capable), though she hoped she wouldn’t have to, that nothing would happen - but the possibility was certainly still there.

And it scared her.

Taking an anxious sip of her water (G hadn’t warned her against it, so she knew it was safe), she tried to find Asgore with her eyes. For an eight foot tall goat monster, he sure was hard to find in such a crowd. And looking for the blazing red of Undyne’s hair didn’t offer any more results.

With a sigh, she leaned against the banister and hoped G would come back soon. What was a consigliere without her don?

A few minutes passed, the incessant cacophony falling over her ears as she simply stood and observed. Humans were incredibly easy to read - monsters, she had learned, not so much.

That had definitely been G, once upon a time.

Movement caught her peripheral and her eyes snapped to the edge of the room.

The crowd wasn’t as condensed there, a few stragglers holding their own in favor of mingling in the massive onslaught of people on the main floor. The string quartet, set up on a small stage in the corner began to play a catchy jazz tune, the sound filtering through the noise.

A lone man with his hat pulled over his eyes skirted the wall, standing at the corner a long moment before ducking into a darkened hallway with what looked like an instrument case of sorts in his hand.

Eyes narrowing, she stewed for a good minute. If he were in the small band, he would’ve just stuck around them, wouldn’t he have? Or at least leave his case there, in the case he was seeking out a bathroom.

A boisterous laugh boomed from the other side of the hall and her thoughts were drawn away.

There stood Asgore, massive head tilted back and fangs bared as he bellowed with uproarious laughter. A small, round human man was laughing with him - she assumed that it was the new mayor. At least some humans seemed to like monsters.

But concern swept over her as she remembered the death threat that had been issued to Asgore from an anonymous source, and the man of a suspicious demeanor slipping into the darkened doorway.

 

Standing in the hall’s entryway just beyond the shadows and peering into the darkness beyond, she decided that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

Glancing back towards the throng of people nearer the front of the building and seeing that no one was following her, she assumed she’d been the only one to see the man’s odd choice of destination.

Or maybe some were choosing not to notice.

Casting another anxious look into the dark, she bit her lip. It could’ve been a technician doing a check on the power, or maybe just a worker in the building getting something from his office. It could be anything really, but that nagging in the back of her head…

Taking a breath, she stepped further into the hall.

It took a good few moments for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but she could just make out the outline of a stairwell. Swallowing, she ascended.

She honestly didn’t know where she was going - none of the lights were turned on as she went from floor to floor. It was extremely unnerving, not being able to see clearly.

Where had that man gone? Surely she hadn’t missed him somewhere - she hadn’t seen or heard anybody yet.

She’d kept count of the floors she’d been passing and soon reached the fifth and final floor, quickly losing certainty. She cast long looks down the halls, seeing nothing but darkness. Maybe she had missed him…

But the click of a door caught her ear and she whirled around. The left hallway was empty.

Something cold and flutter began to coil in her stomach, snaking up her spine, the hairs on the back of her neck rising. He was there.

Every nerve in her body was screaming for her to turn around and flee, to go get help. This was only going to result badly, she knew - but whatever he was going to do, she would be the only one to see him. Maybe if she could just see his face…

Approaching the door, she bit her lip and tried to step lightly on the balls of her feet. G had taught her some things in the ways of stealth and she suddenly grew grateful that he’d insisted upon the instruction.

Reaching the farthest door, where she could’ve sworn that she’ seen a brief glimpse of light, she looked down at the sliver of light beneath the door.

Only the faintest of light could be seen, too faint to be any sort of hand-held light. She figured that it was just one of the rooms with an open balcony.

A balcony overlooking the entire main floor.

Crouching down swiftly and silently, she pressed her temple to the floor and squinted under the door. Light footsteps were almost inaudible, and she saw a shadow pass her vision. He was in there, she knew.

She had to do something. She had to make a decision now.

She figured G was not going to like this.

She stood, reached out and grasped the door handle, twisting it carefully and silently. Maybe if she could catch him off guard…

Holding her breath, she eased the door open.

An empty room unveiled itself before her.

Confusion swept over her, her brows furrowing as she stepped carefully into the room. There was a half-constructed object on the balcony, just out of sight by the people below, its silhouette dark against the light from the chandeliers glimmering on the ceiling beyond. With horror she realized it was a sniper stand, and the gun was already attached.

The floor creaked behind her.

Before she could utter a sound, a hand clamped over her mouth - a calloused, masculine hand that almost engulfed the entire lower half of her face. Her hands few up to pry the long fingers off but another hand grabbed her shoulder roughly and spun her sharply only to-

Her head slammed against the wall with a solid thunk. The edges of her vision swam as her body became flaccid. The man grappled at her hands, wrenching her arms back painfully and patting down her sides. His hand found the strap on her thigh and he tutted in her ear.

“Knives are out of style,” he husked, and it struck her through her pained haze that she’d heard that voice before, somewhere. “Too dangerous for a pretty woman like you, anyway.”

His hand slid down her thigh, fingers catching the edge of her dress and sliding back up, up, sickeningly slowly. She struggled a bit and he pressed her face against the wall, his chess pressing against her back. His fingers wrapped around the strap and with a sharp tug it came free.

“Figures that Don G’s woman would be so tacky,” he remarked, his breath fanning over her ear and neck. Nausea bubbled up in her stomach as she tried to ignore how his suit buttons were digging into her spine.

“Who hired you?” she bit out, panting a little. Why was his grip so hard to break?

His chuckle was gravelly and it made her skin crawl. “That’s not important, dollface. What’s important is that you came up here. You saw me. No one ever sees me.”

“I’m afraid I don’t like your tone,” she growled, glancing downwards. His feet were directly behind hers. Good.

He laughed lowly, the sound almost human. Almost. “G sure knows how to pick the sassy ones,” he crooned, lips grazing her earlobe. “You should’ve seen the last one.”

She lifted her heel and brought it sharply down his shin and slammed it on his toes with a solid thump. He snarled a curse as she tried jerking from his grasp, but he held tight to her wrists, growling in her ear.

“I bet he’s gone soft,” he taunted lowly as she continued to try to wrestle herself away from him. “I’ll bet that he’d break if anything happened to you- the old fool.” He snarled as she jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. “He’s taken too much favor with you - I’ll bet that’s why you’re his consigliere, isn’t it? Is it because he lets you share his bed that you’ve managed to climb up so far?”

Cold metal dug into the soft flesh just beneath her mandible and she stilled instantly. The click of the pistol’s safety lock being disengaged rang in her ears and ever muscle in her body relaxed suddenly. Fear the same temperature as the gun settled in her throat as she tried to swallow. She was facing the balcony now, and she heard the same mill of voices buzzing far below. She idly wondered if G was looking for her.

“Hope you kissed your damn skeleton goodbye,” he hissed.

She took a deep breath. Released it.

G was never going to let her leave their apartment again.

She snapped her head back, feeling her cranium whack against his nose with a satisfying crunch. She wrenched herself away from him, stepped forward to regain her balance-

Her arm snapped painfully, the man’s hand still clamped tightly around her wrist. He yanked her around, and the guard from the front door sneered down at her, blood trickling down his lip.

“You little bitch,” he snarled, pulling her chest to his and digging the gun into her back. His eyes flashed lividly in the dim and she saw nothing but anger and bloodlust. She reached back and gripped his fist tightly, his finger compressing the-

The gunshot was deafening. Pain bloomed over her side, inside her, all over. His eyes widened, he shoved her roughly away with a choked, pained sound, staggering towards the sniper stand. She scrabbled to her feet, her vision blurring around the edges.

He was grasping the rifle, angling it downward - she tackled him to the ground. He fought back, catching her chin with his fist and gripping her hair tightly.

“Damn you,” he choked out, something catching in his throat. He coughed roughly, blood spattered on his chin and dribbling from the corners of his mouth. “Damn you to hell!”

He gave a final shove and she fell weakly to the floor. His ragged breathing was heavy and pained as she listened - inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale…

Silence fell over the room, eerie and much, much too quiet. It was only when she attempted to sit up again that she became conscious of her pain. It lanced up her side and she hissed through her teeth, pressing at the split in her dress just below her ribs. Hot, sticky blood was beginning to soak the fabric and seeped out between her fingers.

It was cold - far too cold in that room, and she distantly realized that she was dying.

Her vision was failing, her hearing fading in and out. The clamor far below the balcony was cacophonous now, shrill voices shrieking through the air. They’d heard the gunshot, at least. Maybe G had heard it.

At least they’d start looking for her. But, given the rate she was losing blood, she didn’t think she was going to last long.

Running her free hand over the carpeted floor, she crawled painfully slowly until her fingers hit the pistol the man had dropped.

Taking a bullet to down another man, she mused. Undyne would be proud.

Suddenly her arms failed her and she collapsed, the cold metal pressing into her palms.

“G,” she ground out, wheezing weakly and shifting to look towards the balcony. “You’d better be watching, you bonehead.”

She aimed at the wall and clamped her eyes shut, gritting her teeth before pulling the trigger.

It was jarring, that gunshot. She hoped that she never grew used to the sound.

A wave of vertigo swept over her, pain flaring as she sank down into the carpet. She rested her head, pressing her palm to her side with lessening pressure.

“You’d better find me, G,” she whispered, trying to threaten, but it only came out as a pained whimper. “You’re paying for this damned dress.”

Only the feeling of her own blood seeping between her fingers and her heart thumping weakly in her throat followed her as she sank into the black abyss.

 

The ballroom was in complete and utter chaos.

G appeared on the second level, near the bar in a darkened corner where no one could spot him easily.

Screams were incessant, ringing in his ears as he hurried towards the steps leading to the main floor, looking out over the banister, the bone between his eyes furrowed.

Humans and monsters alike were flooding out of the grand front entryway, bodies shifting and churning like waves on the sea.

G couldn’t see. He couldn’t focus - there were too many people, and he couldn’t see her-

“G!”

The skeleton monster turned sharply, something cold beginning the wind up his spine. Undyne and Asgore rushed towards him, their faces twisted with concern. Where was she? She was supposed to be with them!

“You heard the gunshot?” Undyne asked sharply, strands of her bright red hair beginning to fall from her tight, militaristic ponytail.

“Where is she?!” he demanded, his shoulders tensing far too tight for his old bones. Undyne’s brow twitched slightly, surprise and confusion evident on her features.

“I have not seen her,” Asgore told him, voice rumbling and cutting clearly through the din, despite the shrieking cacophony. “I assumed she stayed with you.”

“I got ambushed,” G growled, his fists clenching and unclenching subconsciously. “She was supposed to find and stay with you if we were separated.”

“She hasn’t left the building,” Undyne said, concern creasing her lips. “I thought I saw her up here, earlier.”

“Boss!”

All three turned as a ram-like monster staggered through the fray, fur damp with sweat and sleeves bloodied. He clutched at his arm, gritting his teeth as he looked between them.

“It was the Laughlan Clan, sir,” he ground out, panting slightly. “They teamed up on the guards and tried taking them down. But they underestimated us. They were trying to blockade the exits.”

“Shit,” Undyne growled, her fingertips sparking with teal blue magic. “I thought we’d scared them away with extra security.”

“Apparently not,” G responded. He looked to Asgore. “Do you have any idea where the shot came from?”

“It didn’t hit anybody, fortunately,” the guard said, drawing his attention back to him. “Must’ve been a sniper that missed. He could be anywhere by now, though!”

G’s eyes snapped up to the balconies extending from the upper floors. All of the diplomatic quarters were vacated, as far as he’d known. Why were there so damn many-

Another gunshot pierced the air and G saw it - the flash of gunpowder igniting. One of the uppermost rooms, near the north wall.

“Wait,” Undyne breathed, her face paling. G snapped to look at her and he didn’t miss the uncharacteristic fear glittering in her one yellow eye. “I thought…I might’ve seen her going into the inner stairwell, but-”

She didn’t have the chance to finish the thought. G was already gone.

“Keep guards around the exits,” Asgore ordered the ram monster firmly. “Do not let anyone leave this building.”

“Yes, sir!”

 

The room was eerily silent.

G’s shadow disappeared in the inky black surrounding the inside of the room, and from where he stood on the balcony he couldn’t hear any signs of life.

Taking a steadying breath, G enveloped the room in a soft yellow glow with his eye.

The same breath caught in his nonexistent throat when he saw the dark stains of fresh blood. It was everywhere - spattered along the wall, soaking the carpet, leading to the far end of the room-

G froze.

The same guard that had allowed him into the building lay ominously still, his eyes glassed over and his hands clenched and bloody.

A faint wheeze caught his attention and he whirled around, eyes picking up the pieces of what lay around him.

A sniper’s rifle lay forgotten on the floor, the stand broken and in shambles. A trail of red lead to the inner corner of the room, and-

“No,” he whispered.

G stumbled forward. He fell to his knees, his thoughts disappearing. He reached out with shaking hands, his throat locking up.

His human - his precious, delicate, tender little human lay still on her side, eyes closed and mouth parted. Her dress was ripped, the shoulder strap snapped and a necklace dangling from her thin neck.

That necklace - by the stars, that was the necklace he’d bought her for her birthday - he hadn’t even noticed that she’d been wearing it, the pendant hidden just beneath the neckline of her dress.

“No, no, no no no no no, you can’t do this to me,” he whispered harshly, his voice cracking. Why did his ribcage feel so incredibly heavy?

He pressed his shaking fingertips to her throat, pressing and trying to find a pulse - why were humans so fleshy and complicated - no, wait, there it was. Her pulse fluttered weakly beneath his fingers and he noticed the very shallow rise and fall of her chest.

But he also noticed the blood.

A hole split the side of her dress, the once royal blue fabric now a sickening dark purple, the blood trickling steadily from the broken flesh beneath and not showing any signs of slowing.

G realized he was hyperventilating. He didn’t even have lungs - what the hell was he doing?!

He was beginning to die inside, a little voice in the back of his mind whispered. G then began to panic.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered, pressing his trembling hand to the wound. Shit, what was he supposed to do? He had never learned human first aid - why had he never learned human first aid?! “Please - please don’t leave me like this.”

He slide his free arm under her shoulders, lifting and cradling her against him. He hunched over her protectively, wishing that he’d tried harder to practice healing magic, all those years ago. Dammit, why hadn’t he listened to Papyrus?!

Shit, dammit, don’t think about Papyrus right now.

He blinked harshly, suddenly aware of the blurriness in his eyes. He broke when he saw the glowing, pale yellow tears dripping and trickling over her cheeks.

He pressed his face into her hair with a broken sob, rocking slightly as he clamped his palm down on the bullet wound. Damn it all to hell, why did he have to have holes in his palms?!

“Dearheart, you can’t leave me like this,” he blubbered, his shoulders trembling. “Baby, please come back - please, please - come back to me-”

He started, gasping sharply as he felt something warm press against his hand.

He jerked his head back, sockets wide and disbelieving as he saw her fingers weakly attempting to wrap around his own.

“…G…”

His eyes snapped up to hers and he let out a sob of relief.

“You’re not dead,” he whispered.

“’Course ‘m not dead,” she mumbled, her eyelids fluttering weakly, attempted to open but ultimately failing. “Hurts too damn much to die in peace.”

Apparently she must not have noticed his distressed, sharp breaths before, because when he let out a wet, spasmodic laugh, her eyes cracked open and widened in shock.

“G?” she murmured, fingers squeezing his own with frightening frailty. “Are you all right?”

The irony was almost too much, looking at her - almost completely soaked in a pool of her own blood.

“Let’s get you out of here, yeah?” he asked softly, placing her hand to her wound and tucking his arm under her knees. “I want to make sure you survive long enough for spaghetti night.”

“Spaghetti actually sounds pretty good right about now,” she mumbled.

The room fell dark once more.

 

“Owww…dammit!”

“Easy, Grillby. You might make her a bit hot under the collar.”

“Shut up, G.”

“What? I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

“G, respectfully, if you do not stop, I will kindly kick you out of my bar. Healing magic is difficult as it is. Healing humans is an entirely different matter. And your puns do not offer any help.”

“Fine, fine. A man knows when his humor’s not wanted.”

“Normally, I’d be cracking them out with you,” his human said, voice strained and restricted by the small plank of wood clenched between her teeth, “but seeing as this freakin’ hurts, I don’t have half the mind to give a shit.”

G chuckled softly as Grillby heaved a heavy sigh, the fire elemental’s hands glowing a warm chartreuse as he held them to his human’s side.

After teleporting back into the grand hall, G had told Asgore had he’d found and where to find the evidence. Asgore had offered to call him an ambulance for his human but G had politely declined, saying that he could handle it. (He really couldn’t, he knew, and Asgore must’ve known, too, because his expression of concern had been very, very obvious.) So when G had muttered that he was going to Grillby’s, Asgore had visibly relaxed and pressed a large paw to his comparatively tiny shoulder, offering his deepest regrets and wished him and his human well. The urgency in his voice had been clear - tend to your human, I will handle everything else. The blood had been dripping from her side, her eyes closed and breaths shallow, and G decidedly did not look much better.

Luckily, Grillby had been just about to walk out of his bar - it was a Monday night, and he always closed early on Monday - and he’d seemed quite shocked to have G appear in the middle of the bar with a bleeding woman in his arms, if the startled crackle of his flames said anything. G had come to the fire elemental many times before with injuries of varying degrees, but never had he brought his human - or any human, for that matter - for him to heal. Grillby was used to split and cracked bone, not torn flesh and blood.

So when G had wordlessly set the woman on a table and brushed her hair out of her face, Grillby had decided that maybe working a little overtime wouldn’t hurt anybody. But, just as he’d cut away part of her dress so he could have easier access to the wound, she’d groaned and started swatting at his hands.

She probably hadn’t been expecting fire instead of bone.

“G,” Grillby said, as the human grunted and tried to smack his arm at a particularly strong wave of magic, “there is a first aid kit under the bar. Please fetch it.”

“Sure thing.” G strode away, going around and bending down to observe the shelves constructed beneath the smooth wooden bar top.

Grillby spoke quietly, as though he didn’t want G to hear. “I am about to repair your kidney,” he murmured. “I would recommend holding your breath.”

Her response was muffled, and only two seconds passed before she seized up, hissing and grunting. “Ooooowww, shiiiit!”

G appeared at the table in the blink of an eye, scrutinizing Grillby’s hands. Grillby sighed softly and, unbeknownst to G, cast the skeleton an exasperated glance.

“You are hovering,” the bartender said.

G harrumphed and set the kit down before folding his arms tightly over his chest. His human’s eyes twinkled in the bar’s dim light as she looked up at him, something he couldn’t quite place.

“Nice to see you care about me,” she mumbled around the now slick wood, shifting a bit and grunting in pain.

Grillby flicked her arm. “Stop moving.”

“It hurts,” she growled, rubbing the irritated skin. “How much longer?”

“Almost finished,” he replied smoothly. “Bullet wounds take longer to heal.”

“Guess it’s a good thing you don’t have to deal with that with me,” G offered. “You humans are just so…squishy.”

She directed a very flat, very agitated glare towards the skeleton monster.

Grillby sighed. “Sometimes cracked bone is more difficult to repair,” he pointed out.

“Grillby, you wound me,” G said, placing a hand over his sternum. “And here I thought I was your favorite customer.”

“Only whenever you pay your tab.”

His human snickered softly and G shot her a look.

A few quiet moments passed, and when Grillby’s hands returned to their normal orange-yellow, G surveyed her skin carefully. “Never thought you’d be so adept in healing humans, Grillbz.” He poked at her side gently. “Not a scratch on her.”

“Practice,” the fire elemental responded, opening the first aid kit and rifling through its contents. The human touched her side, prodding experimentally at her repaired skin with an awed expression.

“It doesn’t even hurt,” she murmured.

“That’s Grillbz for you,” G remarked. “He’s got a way with wounds, internal or external.”

“Ha and ha,” the bartender said, ripping open a packet of antiseptic wipes. He began to clean off the dried and congealed blood caking her skin, the cloth quickly becoming red and her skin soon returning to its normal fleshy tone.

“Do not strain yourself,” the bartender told her, helping her sit up. “Be careful with how you turn. I may be healed, but healing magic can only hold itself for so long.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling up at him. “If you ever need any help around the bar, just give me a call. It’s the least I can do.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Grillby said, and G caught a glimpse of the fire elemental’s jagged teeth. This was the first time the skeleton had seen him smile.

“Sorry for making you work overtime,” the don said, as his human slipped off the table to the floor. “Desperate times, and all that.”

“I understand.” Grillby cast him a look, and G had the feeling that the fire elemental was smirking. “Should you ever need my services in this matter again, do not hesitate to call.”

G nodded as Grillby strolled towards the front door and began to unlock it. “I trust you will let yourselves out.”

“Thanks,” G blurted, and his human’s brows rose in surprise. Grillby stilled for a moment, then chuckled quietly.

“I believe your human is good for you,” he remarked, casting a small smile over his shoulder. “You are finally learning manners.”

G’s human laughed and the skeleton monster sighed in exasperation. “Night, Grillby.”

“Good night, G.”

And with that, both the don and his consigliere disappeared.

 

The apartment, while just as quiet as Grillby’s darkened tavern had been, was entirely different in the manner of familiarity. The tangy residue of cigar smoke and bourbon was heavy in the air. The coals in the fireplace were glowing a very weak orange, the only source of brighter light being the kitchen’s as G popped into existence in the living room.

“Final stop,” G sighed, settling his face into her hair and wrapping his arms around her middle, hands resting loosely on the small of her back. “Casa de G.”

She let out a quiet chuckle, returning his gentle embrace and nuzzling into his suit and getting a whiff of his cologne.

“Mi marido attractivo,” she murmured, and he almost felt his Soul stop.

She seemed to understand immediately what she’d implied and jerked back, her face coloring. “I - I mean…” She bit her lip, panic settling in her eyes. “I didn’t mean - it’s only - I only meant…”

He stood there, speechless, his mind just stuttering to a halt. She seemed to panic even more, pulling back completely and going pale, a sharp contrast to her earlier flush.

“O-only if you want to,” she stuttered, eyes downcast and voice small. “It slipped out…”

“Stop that.”

She started, staring up at him with wide eyes as his hand came up to caress her cheek. His one good eye glowed warm and bright in the darkness of his eye socket and his smile was ridiculously wide.

“I’d love to,” he said warmly, other hand coming up to stroke his fingertips through her hair. “I would damn right love to be your husband.” He paused, his smile dimming a little. “But, not right now.”

She seemed to be caught between confusion and heartbreak. “What?”

He continued to gaze softly down at her, pulling her closer to him and resting his nasal bone in her scalp to breath in the vanilla and lavender that seemed to cling to her. “I’ll marry you,” he murmured,” but I want it to be special. I want to have the right moment to propose - it’s, well…” He flushed a bit despite himself and he was thankful she couldn’t see his face. “It’s always been a dream of mine to have really meaningful proposal. This isn’t…I almost lost you tonight. I almost lost you forever, because I wasn’t paying attention and didn’t stay by your side.”

She smacked at his chest and he jumped.

“Do not blame yourself,” she scolded firmly, jabbing at his sternum. “You couldn’t have prevented anything that happened. I managed to prevent Asgore from getting shot and that’s what matters. Besides…” Her voice softened and she relaxed against him. “I knew you would find me.”

G tried to speak, but something forcing itself into his nonexistent throat only allowed a choked sound to escape. His vision was beginning to blur and he took a breath, clutching at her and trying to hide the trembling in his hands.

“I’ll always find you,” he managed, “because I don’t know what I’d do without you. Honest to God, I don’t how I managed to live all these years without you.”

She let out a gentle sound, rubbing his back in rhythmic circles as he tried to steady his breathing.

“I guess it’s a good thing that Grillby’s got good hands, huh?” she mused, and he let out a wet laugh. “Next time I get a papercut I’m going straight to him.”

G relished in her light humor, feeling the tension he’d had for the past hour ease from his shoulders. He cradled her head and his mouth to her forehead. “I’m glad you’re all right,” he mumbled.

“I love you, too,” she replied, and despite the clothes separating his ribcage from her face he still felt her smile.

They stood in silence for a long moment, just breathing each other in and enjoying the quiet, intimate feeling of home before G patted her head lightly.

“Soon,” he said. “We’ll have a nice night out, maybe out of the city on a hill with an old bottle of wine and one of those butterscotch pies you make.”

She chuckled softly, leaning back to gaze up at him with one of those soft, loving smiles that he’d discovered were only reserved for him.

“Let’s go to bed, you old romantic,” she said, tugging at his tie and pulling him towards their bedroom. “I think we’ve both had quite the evening tonight. Let’s just try to get some sleep.”

He hummed softly and followed her with a smirk. “After you, future Mrs. Gaster.”


End file.
